


Letters Home

by malinaldarose (coralysendria)



Category: Indiana Jones Series
Genre: 5+1 Things, Community: trope_bingo, Epistolary, Friendship, Gen, Letters, Road Trips, Trope Bingo Round 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coralysendria/pseuds/malinaldarose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five letters (plus one) from Dr. Jones Senior's final lecture tour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to the first fic I ever posted [A Long Time To Wait](http://archiveofourown.org/works/305370).
> 
> It is written for the Road Trip square on my Trope Bingo Round 4 card.

Dear Marcus,

I wanted to dash off a quick note to let you know that I am settled in Oxford. I have been granted visiting professor rooms which are quite comfortable, and much easier to manage than a hotel would be for the fortnight or so I will be here. My lecture schedule is all arranged, and I have made the acquaintance of Professors Lewis and Tolkien, who have invited me to lunch with their literary society next Tuesday. I am looking forward to a great deal of stimulating conversation with them.

I know you were concerned about me making a lecture tour at my age, but honestly, Marcus, I feel fine. The flight was no less taxing than any other journey, and I think we both know the reason why. 

It is time for dinner, so I shall close this. Tender my regards to Junior when next you see him.

Yours,  
Henry

~*~*~

Dear Marcus,

My conversations with Lewis and Tolkien have been everything I had hoped. Tolkien's facility with languages is astounding; he would have been of immense aid to me when I was puzzling out some of the more obscure texts in my research. He has actually invented several langugages of his own, which he has employed in his writings. Lewis has a more theological bent, and I find myself wanting to tell him, during some of our debates, that I have literally drunk from the Grail -- an experience that I still wish I could remember. Best not to mention that, I suppose, especially as the only proof I can provide -- my own excellent health despite my age -- is no proof at all.

I will be sorry to leave Oxford; I have been enjoying my stay here more than I have any right to. The students may not be any more attentive than they are anywhere else, but the faculty more than make up for the students' lack. Still, I am engaged to begin a week's stay in Paris tomorrow to lecture at the Sorbonne. I must finish my packing, then join the others for a farewell drink.

Yours,  
Henry

~*~*~

 

Dear Marcus,

I have to apologize for not writing from Paris. I am now in Vienna, where I have three lectures scheduled at the University.

My stay in Paris was quite enjoyable. I had only two lectures scheduled, and for the rest of the week, I played tourist. It had been a long time since my last visit to the city. I took shameless advantage of my age, I'm afraid, and was able to see artworks up close by claiming failing eyesight. I also spent quite a lot of time in the Cluny, a favorite spot of mine, as you know. I did not, however, neglect a visit to the Eiffel Tower -- a necessity for any self-respecting tourist.

I have been enjoying myself immensely on this trip, but am beginning to look forward to being home. Still, only one more stop, after this week.

Take care, Marcus.

Yours,  
Henry.

~*~*~

Dear Marcus,

Ah, Venice! Despite the unpleasantness that occurred here nearly twenty years ago, I still love this city. I have a couple of lectures scheduled at Ca' Foscari, and, of course, the obligatory dinners and parties, but I am otherwise at liberty. I have visited the library, and was told -- in confidence -- a wild tale about an American who broke through the floor and entered the catacombs beneath! Can you imagine, Marcus? But, of course you don't have to.

The floor has long since been repaired and looks no different from the first time I ever entered the building. I am trying to imagine Junior and Elsa in the catacombs beneath, but all I can see are the thousands of rats that Junior later told me were down there. Being rats, they undoubtedly survived the fire. I wish I could say as much for Sir Richard's tomb.

I am being sentimental, I suppose, but it was such an adventure, Marcus. A true knight's quest, with the Grail waiting for us at the end. I am too old for such things now, of course, and this will be my last journey. I will not leave home again.

This has become entirely maudlin. I will close and perhaps take a touristy gondola ride on the Grand Canal and listen to the singing of the gondoliers.

Take care, Marcus.

Yours,  
Henry

~*~*~

Dear Dr. Jones,

It is with great sadness that I must inform you of the death of your father, Henry W. Jones, Sr. He passed in his sleep on Thursday. Please accept my personal condolences and those of the entire faculty of Università Ca' Foscari Venezia. He will be sorely missed. 

By strange coincidence, earlier that evening, I had a conversation with your father regarding his wish to be interred here in Venezia. If that is agreeable to you, I will see to it. Please contact me with your instructions as soon as possible.

Again, please accept my condolences.

Sincerely,  
Dr. Constantino Biondi

~*~*~

Dear Marcus,

By now, you will have received notification that I died in Venice, so I know this letter will come as a great shock to you. Please let me apologize for the deception, but it was necessary, as you will see.

I have lived a long time, Marcus, and in the normal course of events, I probably would have died long since, even without being shot in the gut. I find, however, that I am not ready for death. There is so much more to know, Marcus. 

I am presently in Iskenderun, about to depart across the desert with a young man called Faruk. You can, I am certain, guess my destination. 

I am sure you will remember the Brotherhood of the Cruciform Sword -- or at least your poor tender head will. The Brotherhood, it turns out, has a worldwide network, and through their kind offices, the Grail Knight and I have been exchanging letters for years. It is the Brotherhood who organized my lecture tour as a cover for the journey back to Iskenderun and beyond. The Venetian professor who sent the news of my "death" is a member. 

At first, my conversations with Sir Henry -- and it seems like fate that we should share a name -- were conducted entirely in Latin and Greek, even though Junior assured me that the Knight spoke English. It just seemed the correct way to go about it. Sir Henry is a very learned man -- more so than you and I and Junior (and probably entire university faculties) combined -- and these letters have been one of my life's great pleasures. But he is weary, Marcus. He has been the appointed guardian of the grail for more than seven hundred years. He wants to pass the guardianship on. 

Forgive me for not being able to entrust you with the details, Marcus, but I do not yet have them all myself. All I can tell you is that the Grail was returned to the chamber where Junior first found it, and Sir Henry's guardianship has continued these past nearly twenty years. Given our mutual faith, and what I personally experienced and continue to experience of the powers of the Grail, I do not think its miraculous reappearance should be surprising to either of us.

Faruk grows impatient to be off, and there is very little more I can tell you, in any event. I will drink once more from the Grail, and this time, I will not cross the Seal -- or whatever new barrier has appeared. I will study a while with Sir Henry: for a year, or two years, or ten, or fifty, and I will eventually take my place as the Guardian. My beloved Anna understood my quest, and she will, I trust, forgive me for tarrying now that I know the Grail's location.

So this is farewell, Marcus. I have valued our long friendship, and hope you will continue to hold me in esteem, as I shall hold you. Keep an eye on Junior for me as you always have, but please, Marcus, do not tell him about this. It will only grieve him more than the thought of my death, and I do not want him trying to convince me to come back home. When I spoke of home in my earlier letters, I meant with the Grail, and Indiana cannot join me there.

In conclusion, Marcus, I have only this to say: That genius of the restoration....

I shall imagine you giving the countersign.

Take care, Marcus.

Yours,  
Henry.


End file.
